


the clearer road up yonder

by seditonem



Category: Hunger Games (2012) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 04:25:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seditonem/pseuds/seditonem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, the embarrassing thing is not that he cries. It’s that Jen crying sort of makes him want to cry. She sits next to him in the ambulance, reaching out to hold his hand every few seconds and then remembering it’s attached to a broken arm. </p>
<p>(Josh breaks his arm, Jennifer likes cupcakes. End of story. Set in a weird sort of future time where they're filming one of the next films and Jennifer is single, I guess.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the clearer road up yonder

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: sex, bad words, writing "skills" that haven't been used in a few months  
> disclaimer: entirely false lies, every word of it.

The scaffolding he’s standing on is there one minute, and distinctly _not_ the next. Josh doesn’t remember falling so much as he does actually landing, and the landing is the important bit anyway, because it really hurts. 

Five minutes later and he’s being told his right arm is broken. Everyone is frowning and looking worried and calling ambulances and Josh thanks several deities that his hair isn’t slicked back because perhaps today will be the day he finally has a hot doctor. 

“Why didn’t you grab onto something?” Jen half shouts, practically vibrating with nervous energy. “We’ve had stunt training - why didn’t you even try and stop yourself?” 

“I didn’t really notice until it was too late,” Josh admits, awkwardly. It sounds stupid out loud, but it’s true. 

“You did sort of fall like a sack of potatoes,” Liam nods, and then looks thoughtful. “Or a sack of flour, even.” Josh grins weakly. It’s a bad joke, but he appreciates the effort under the circumstances. Liam’s a handy sort of guy to have around in a shitty situation, like when you think the bone of your arm may have broken through your skin but you don’t really want to look at it in case you do something embarrassing, like faint. 

In the end, the embarrassing thing is not that he cries. It’s that Jen crying sort of makes him want to cry. She sits next to him in the ambulance, reaching out to hold his hand every few seconds and then remembering it’s attached to a broken arm. 

“My left hand is fine,” he says, eventually, and she clutches it gratefully, so tightly it almost evens out the pain in his right arm. “You would not make a good nurse,” he winces. It only makes her cry harder, even though he meant to make her smile. 

/

Josh is given strict instructions to keep his arm dry when he showers, and told to try and keep exercise to a minimum in case he falls again. He almost wants to complain that he’s not _that_ clumsy, but that sounds childish even in his own head, so he keeps quiet. Jen gets the cab with him, occasionally reaching up to make sure his jacket is still on his shoulders, fussing nervously. 

“It’s not your fault,” he sighs, in the tense silence of the cab. “It’s not like you pushed me or anything.” He figured out she was feeling guilty as they started filling out the hospital forms, when she stole the clipboard from him and started writing down all his details as if it could save her life. 

Jen’s mouth twists. Her eyes are still red-rimmed from crying, and there’s a smudge of black near her nose where she wiped distractedly at her mascara earlier. Josh watched her as she sat next to him, while they put the cast on his arm. She’s a very good distraction. “I was fooling around,” she replies eventually, the angry jut of her jaw making her seem very young. Josh keeps forgetting she’s older than him. She’s one of those perpetually youthful people, whereas his cheeks ache after one hour of smiling. Liam once told him that she refers to him as “yon aged old-timer” when he’s being grumpy. They just deal with it differently – Jen shows her irritation more easily, while Josh saves it all up for later on so that he can be nice when there are cameras around. 

“We’ve fooled around hundreds of times on set and nothing has ever happened before. I wasn’t paying attention, that’s all.” He watches the play of light on her face as they speed past street-lights. 

“Only because I was distracting you,” Jen huffs, and her hand brushes against Josh’s cast. “Oh God, I’m so sorry!” she says, pulling away. 

“I’ve had, like, my own body-weight in painkillers,” Josh smiles, feeling distinctly woozy. “It’s really fine.” 

It’s not so fine a few minutes later when he gets out the car and sees black spots in his vision as he stands up. Jen rushes around the boot of the cab and grabs his good arm, hooking it over her shoulder and walking him excruciatingly slowly to his flat. He gets impatient halfway there and forces her to walk a little faster, but by the time they get inside he’s so exhausted he falls asleep on the sofa, jacket thrown across his chest, Jen’s voice floating through from the kitchen, saying something about waffles. 

/ 

His back is sore, and there’s a crick in his neck. Somewhere in the background, someone is listening to funk. Josh opens his eyes slowly and finds Liam staring down at him, busy scrawling something on his cast.

“I love co—” he begins, and then wrenches his arm away from Liam. “No,” he finishes, firmly. “My mom is coming down, and she would not be pleased.” 

“Aw, that’s cute, Hutcherson,” Liam grins, ruffling Josh’s hair and standing up as Jen comes in. Josh scowls at the underside of Liam’s chin, so far away it may as well be plastered to the ceiling. Stupid Australians and their stupid height. 

“What’s cute?” Jen asks. The smudge of mascara is still on her face, Josh notes, feeling like he’s been woken unnecessarily rudely. 

“The cripple snores when he sleeps,” Liam lies blithely, and leaves the room without so much as an explanation.

“I don’t,” Josh splutters. It’s a stupid insult but he can’t come up with a retort anyway. 

“I think he’s going easy on you because you’re injured,” muses Jen, as if she can read his thoughts. She puts down a plate Josh didn’t notice she was holding, and he suddenly realises the flat smells beautifully of egg and bacon and toast. “I cut it up, I hope you don’t mind,” she blurts out, as he looks at the plate. The toast is in neat squares, egg balanced carefully on top. It looks more like a work of modern art than a meal, but Josh is incredibly grateful. “Sorry. I’m not trying to treat you like a child.”

“No, thanks, this is great,” Josh smiles, picking up the fork with his left hand and shifting closer to the coffee table. Jen sits down next to him, checks around her on the couch, and eventually finds the TV remote. Eating with just a fork in his left hand is sort of weird, but at least it’s not chopsticks, and he finds himself practically inhaling the food. Jen smothers a snort of amusement. “I did not realise I was that hungry,” he frowns, looking down at the now-empty plate. “You cook good eggs.”

“High praise,” Jen smirks. “Careful how you dole that out, kiddo.” 

As much as Josh sort of hates that she calls him that, he also sort of likes it. 

But not as much as he likes the fact that she cooked him eggs. 

/ 

The next day Josh wanders around his flat in a sort of half-daze. Liam and Jen left around midnight, but only because Liam assured her that Josh would probably be able to use the bathroom and sleep without her presence, and then only because she had written every emergency number he would ever need in large numbers on a piece of red paper and stuck it to his fridge. 

She’s even included his mom’s, and there’s a heart on the i in Liam. Josh stares blankly at it and then opens the fridge for some orange juice. Getting things done is about as difficult as he’d expected – he hasn’t had to write anything yet, and he calls people instead of texting them – but he sort of dreads the thought of a shower. Jerking off in the morning was oddly weird too, like it was someone else touching him, but the principle is pretty much the same and he figures he’ll be fine with it after a week. 

It was vaguely weird to think about that, he muses. No one ever really told you that _that_ was going to be a problem when you break your arm. 

In any case, he has a whole wad of time to play around with, since he can’t really do anything on screen with a cast on, and he’s learnt most of his lines already. 

“Netflix it is, then,” he mutters, shuffling over to the couch. 

The day passes in a haze of old X Files episodes and a couple of comedy shows. Josh starts seeing weirdly after a few painkillers, and then realises he’s fallen asleep when he wakes up with complete darkness outside the window. The reason for his sudden awakening becomes obvious instantly – someone is banging on the door. He checks the time – ten pm – and realises with a sickening feeling that he has twenty missed calls. 

“Coming!” he shouts down the hallway, and gets to the door just as the banging turns into weak _thwack_ s. 

“J-dog, my hands hurt but open up anyway! I need to know if you’re alive! We’re getting married!” Jen shouts through the door. 

Josh opens the door and Jen nearly slaps him in the face. “My neighbours,” he says, carefully avoiding her hand, “probably do not think you are mentally stable.” She flounces past him, pulling a face, and puts a large box down on his kitchen counter. 

“Cupcakes,” she announces, proudly, pulling the top off the box. “I didn’t have time to make them but I _did_ have time to personally select each and every one of them. Aren’t they gorgeous?” She drags out the syllables in gorgeous, making the word sound obscene. Josh stares at the three rows of cupcakes, each perfectly decorated with yellow frosting and stars. 

Perhaps he’s silent for too long, because Jen seems to get nervous and picks one up at random, pulling the paper casing off and holding it up to his mouth. In the awkward silence, Josh isn’t quite sure what to do, but he opens his mouth slightly and takes a bite. He can feel frosting smearing on his top lip, can feel Jen’s thumb brushing against his chin slightly, and then the cupcake threatens to fall apart. “Oops,” she murmurs, catching two chunks of melt-in-the-mouth sponge. Josh chews slowly and swallows, his mouth painfully dry, and then opens his mouth again obediently as she feeds him the rest of the cupcake. He feels like he’s blushing, cheeks gone hot; his skin feels too small for him, as if it’s not his own anymore. He swallows the last of the cupcake, his throat protesting, and Jen stands there for a second, her hand hovering near his face. Finally, just when Josh is about to say something, she wipes the frosting from his top lip and sucks it slowly off her thumb. He can see her tongue. 

“Thank you,” he manages eventually, skin on fire where she’s touched it, and Jen does that smile that he hardly ever sees, that one that’s reserved for really special occasions. Like when he made her a birthday cake and decorated it with their inside jokes, brought it to her on set and made Liam sing her happy birthday with him. Even then, even when that smile was all for him, he barely caught it, because she didn’t really do it till she was cutting the cake and her face was turned away. 

But she’s looking at him now, and smiling that smile, and Josh’s heart wants to tear itself apart because it’s sure he’s never going to feel this good again. 

“No problem,” she says, grin turning wicked as she looks down at the tray of cupcakes and helps herself to one. “This is my niceness fee,” she tells him, pulling the paper casing off and eating half the cupcake in one go. 

“And you eat it so nicely,” he needles, matching her grin as he turns to get another glass of orange juice. His heart thumps painfully in his chest and he pulls a face as he searches the fridge. _What the hell just happened?_

Jen stays for most of the night, even though Josh knows she must be exhausted, so he makes sure she texts him when she gets home and then falls into bed in a strange sort of daze, the taste of the frosting still lingering despite his brushing and mouthwash. 

He’s sure it hasn’t always been so pressing, this need. He’s sure he hasn’t always thought so much about undressing her, about pulling down her panties and licking into her. 

He’s also sure no one has ever been so frustrated while trying to jerk off with the wrong hand. 

/ 

His mom arrives a few days later, conveniently just after Josh has finished putting his third set of sheets since The Cupcakes into the wash. She cooks enough food to feed a small tribe of extremely hungry omnivores, then goes about using more Tupperware than he’s ever seen, dividing up meals into portions and then putting them into the freezer. In the end, there’s no space for anything in there, not even an ice cube, and he’s pretty sure he won’t need to cook for the rest of his natural life. Josh gives her the last cupcake – Jen ended up having more than just one, and so did he, and then he pretty much ate nothing but cupcakes because he couldn’t be bothered to cook – and sits in the living room while she fusses around, cleaning, even though he insists she should just sit down and talk. 

As so often happens, they have a playful argument about how he’s not looking after himself, and just when Josh feels like he understands the world again, the doorbell rings. 

It’s Jen, of course. Josh can’t quite look her in the eye, but he smiles, hugs her, shows her in, and she and his mum immediately start talking about the cupcakes, about how he needs to wash his hair, and Jen begins to apologise for not taking better care of him. Josh pulls a face behind her back and slips out of the room. 

It takes them half an hour to notice he’s gone, during which time Josh discovers that doing sit-ups with a broken arm is surprisingly difficult. 

/ 

At dusk, Josh walks his mom back to her car, enjoying the easy company. She natters on about making sure to give her a call if he needs anything more, or if he wants someone to chat to, or if he just wants to watch a movie and eat ice-cream. 

“I think I’ve grown up from the thirteen year old girl at a slumber party that I was,” he says, seriously, and ducks away from the playful swat she gives him. 

“Well, I think I’m leaving you in good hands anyway,” she smiles, looking amused. He quirks an eyebrow.

“Jen is not good hands. Jen is mentally unstable hands.” Josh tries his best stern face. His mom snorts with amusement and gets into her car. 

“Yeah, whatever. You’re glowing,” she replies enigmatically, and starts the engine. 

“What? No, pregnant _women_ glow, Mom,” Josh huffs, indignantly, feeling his cheeks redden without his consent. 

“Must be something in the water, then. Take care, sweetheart!” 

She’s gone with a kiss and a wave. Josh stands on the sidewalk and glowers after her, hating lots of things, but mostly his broken arm. It throbs dully, as if to remind him of its presence. 

“Yeah, I know,” he grouches, and turns around to find Jen standing right there. 

“You must be getting super lonely,” she grins. “Talking to your arm? Whatever’s next?” She waggles her eyebrows, looking at his crotch, and starts back up the stairs to his flat before he comes up with an answer. His cock twitches and he curses quietly. One look from a person is not supposed to have that much of an effect on him. 

People really need to stop leaving before he has a chance for a witty comeback, Josh thinks as he starts up the stairs, feeling defeated. 

/

Upstairs, once he’s shut the door, Jen appears from the bathroom. Her sleeves are rolled up and she looks fearsome. 

“Did I… do something?” Josh asks, suddenly afraid.

“You need to wash your hair,” she replies, dragging him by his left hand into the bathroom. She turns away dramatically. “Get into the bath, I’m not looking.” 

“You’re kidding, right? I can wash my hair still,” Josh says. He hopes he sounds as affronted as he feels. 

“Shirt, sweatpants and boxers off now, or I’ll cut them off myself,” Jen threatens, and Josh really doesn’t want her that close to his dick with a pair of scissors, so he strips in record time and gets into the bath. It’s really nice, actually, despite the overpowering scent of the bubble bath (thankfully not lavender, he notes), and he can rest his arm on the side without it getting wet. 

“I’m in,” he calls over his shoulder, and Jen picks up the shower head, turning the spray on low so she can get his hair damp. She spends a while simply letting the water work its magic on his scalp, and then turns it off so she can use shampoo. Her hands are really nice, he reflects. Her thumbs brush lightly against the nape of his neck, triggering a shiver, and he wonders if she notices that he’s hard. Hopefully the bubbles help. He draws his knees up anyway, awkwardly clumsy as she runs her nails lightly across his scalp. 

“I did not think we would get to this stage in our friendship,” she says, after a while, and Josh is jerked out of his warm dozing state as she rinses out the shampoo. 

“Neither,” he manages, feeling exposed despite the sea of bubbles. 

She washes the shampoo out slowly, water trickling down his back, and Josh sits stock still in the bathwater till she leaves him to get the rest of himself clean. She leaves the door open, though, and Josh can’t be bothered to get up to close it. Once the sound of the TV filters through, he dares to move. He can feel the phantom touch of her fingers on his head still, which is ridiculous because she’s touched him before, hugged him, kissed him – and yet now, _now_ he can’t stop thinking of her. 

He reaches gingerly down into the bathwater, trying to think of unsexy things, but the only thing that sticks in his mind is how he’s still hard, still wanting, and she’s only a few metres away. Washing doesn’t help, not with only one hand, and his wrist keeps brushing slightly against his dick. 

“Fuck it,” he murmurs to himself, and takes the matter in hand. The first stroke makes the bathwater splash a bit, so he lies back in the tub a bit, placing his feet against the rim, and tugs gently on his balls. A strangled noise escapes his mouth before he can help it, and then he’s biting down hard on his lower lip, teeth digging into the skin as he curls his fingers around his cock and settles into a rhythm. It’s still weird, using his left hand, but he manages, trying not to use his other arm to steady himself. His head tips back, bubbles popping around his ears, hips canting upwards as he thrusts into his loose fist. Blood jerks through his system, reminding him that this is probably the worst thing he’s done in a long time, but it’s impossible to stop. “Fuck, fuck,” he whimpers, wishing he had both hands to use. He’s going to come too soon, spurred on by the sound of her getting up and moving around, and when Jen knocks on the door and stands in the hallway outside he thinks he’s going to fall apart. 

“Are you ok in there?” 

“Yeah, fine!” he replies, too quickly, sinking deep into the water, and then he’s coming, shaking and almost choking out her name. A few seconds pass, and she’s not leaving. “Just, uh, slipped in the tub trying to get out.”

“Do you need a hand?” she calls, and his cock twitches against his leg. 

“No!” His voice cracks, he can hear it, so he stands up fast before she can come in, wrapping the towel around his body sloppily and pulling the plug. A corner of the fabric falls into the water as he gets out, almost overbalancing, and then he’s fleeing to his room, limbs still shaking. 

/ 

A few days later Josh goes back to set to talk some things over. While he’s there Jen attacks him with headphones to make him listen to a “really awesome song” and insists he shuts his eyes as he listens. He breathes her perfume in guiltily and tries not to think about the hours without her, stretched out on his bed naked, thinking of her as he jerked off. When she’s done he opens his eyes, looks down and finds the “I love cock” has been finished, and Liam is almost out of sight, holding a Sharpie in the air and looking smug. 

“It could be so much worse,” Jen tells him, ruffling his hair. A flash of irritation sparks through him – not because of her, but because of how futile the situation is. She sees him as nothing more than a younger friend, a brother perhaps, and there’s nothing he can do to change it. Nothing he would do anyway, because there’s no point pestering a girl who doesn’t think of you that way, who doesn’t want you that way. There’s nothing he can do, and he can’t even feel angry at her, because it’s not her fault. It’s just a shitty situation, and that’s the way it is. 

“How?” Josh sighs, suddenly feeling very tired. “I could be in love with someone who doesn’t love me back?” 

He leaves before she replies, but getting the last word doesn’t feel as good as he thought it would. 

/

Five hours and several loudly played Radiohead albums later, Josh wishes he was old enough to purchase alcohol legally. He feels like a stereotypical teenager with a crush. 

Six hours, and there’s a sharp noise from his window. Josh looks over, turns the music quickly off, and stares in amazement as the second small pebble hits the glass. He walks over, looks down to the sidewalk, and his heart does that clench again. That good-bad clench he associates only with her now. 

Jen mimes opening the window, so he does. 

“Can I come up?” she shouts, and Josh thinks about the way the breeze is blowing her shirt flush against her skin. Thinks about how her skin must be damp with the heat. 

“Ok,” he says, hoarsely, and waits by the door till she knocks. When she comes in, she’s not like the Jen he knows from months spent together. She’s the special smile version of Jen, and Josh’s heart is doing hurdles over each of his ribs. 

“I brought you some more cupcakes,” she begins, pushing past him. This time it’s she who’s not looking him in the eye as she walks to the kitchen. He has no choice but to shut the door and follow her, watching the long line of her legs as she moves. This time, the frosting is red, and there are hearts instead of stars. “No niceness fee this time.” She seems awkward as she pulls the casing off one and holds it out to him again.

“Jen,” he begins, but she shakes her head, pushing the cupcake into his open mouth.

“Please,” she says, stepping closer so he’s forced against the kitchen counter, strawberry frosting coating the inside of his mouth. “Please,” again, so he bites and chews and swallows, finishing the cupcake. 

This time, though, she doesn’t wipe the extra frosting away from his mouth. He’s managed it more elegantly than last time, but there’s still a little on his lower lip. He watches her eyes as he licks his lips, hardly daring to believe that her breathing is shallow and her pupils have dilated. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t realise I – I wasn’t sure if you felt that way about me, you’re so difficult to read sometimes, I didn’t know – ” 

She looks like she’s panicking, words tumbling out in a rush, and Josh gets it. She’s not into him, she doesn’t want him like that. It’s not fair, he thinks, over and over again, until Jen gives up on speaking and then she’s kissing him – then it’s oh so fair that his nerves feel like they’re singing. She winds her fingers through his hair, kissing him thoroughly, and Josh dares to put his hand on the curve of her waist. Jen makes a pleased sound, pressing closer to him. He feels like he’s floating, fingers fisting in her shirt. Perhaps she’ll keep him close to ground, stop him ending up on the ceiling. 

“I feel like we’ve gone about this in the wrong way,” he says, later, his forehead pressed against hers, eyes shut. He feels her frown.

“How so?” 

“Surely you’re supposed to be the adorably clumsy one, and I’m supposed to take care of you and seduce you with cookery skills and downright smokin’ hot good looks?” he asks, amused. 

Jen makes a sound that’s a cross between disbelieving laughter and derision. “Your clumsiness is not adorable,” she decides, kissing him lightly to soften the sting of her words; “and we’re in the twenty-first century. I’ll seduce you if I want to.”

“I am absolutely ok with that,” Josh admits, tracing the curve of her bottom lip with his thumb. Her eyes are very bright when she opens them, and there’s a wicked grin on her face as she pulls him down the hallway to his bedroom, leaving the cupcakes forgotten in the kitchen. He tries to touch her as she pulls his shirt over his head, but between his cast and the fact that she pushes him down onto the bed, it’s rather difficult. She strips him down in record time, and Josh wants to be impressed, but he’s more focused on the way she’s biting at his neck, moving down his chest to trace over his hipbones with her tongue. Then she’s swirling her tongue over the head of his cock and he has no chance at rational thought left, just her name on his lips. She hollows her cheeks, then licks down the length of him, one hand tight on his thigh. 

He realises suddenly that he’s hardly touched her. “Jen, c’mere,” he murmurs, but she seems reluctant to move. “Take your – c’mon, take your top off,” he says, eventually, frustrated by the lack of movement she’s allowing him. She kneels back and undoes her shirt slowly, taking care with each button. By the time it’s undone he’s practically panting, this time convinced his cheeks are red, but she’s so gorgeous he forgets to be embarrassed. He’s never taken so much time to simply look at her, the perfect lines of her waist, the swell of her breasts. Jen told him once that she was basically naked for some of the scenes in X-Men, and for the first time Josh feels jealous of all the people who got to see her like that in person for the film. He moves down the bed so he can sit close to her, one knee on either side of her. 

His first touch is clumsy, nerves making his left hand shake, but she just smiles at him, kissing him again and again till he’s not sure which way is up. She throws her bra somewhere in the room (he’s thankful he doesn’t have to fumble with the clasp – no way could he undo it with one hand) and leans into him. “Missing having both hands?” she giggles as he traces down her neck and along her collarbone. 

“You have no idea,” he admits, kissing her again. She opens to him willingly, as if they’ve been doing this for weeks instead of minutes, and he sort of loves her for it. It’s easy to get completely lost in her, and he hardly notices that she’s straddling him until she grinds down against him, the rough denim of her shorts causing a pleasurable friction against his dick. He knows she’s watching his face when she pulls back, rubbing back and forth against him as his eyes fall shut. 

Abruptly, Jen’s gone, pushing him backwards on the bed so he’s flat on his back. Josh reaches out for her, fingers closing on open air, but she’s making an annoyed noise and next second he can hear the rip of a foil wrapper. Breathing suddenly becomes very difficult – he’s thought about this so often over the past week that the fact that it’s actually happening seems impossible. But it is, and she’s rolling the condom on in a smooth movement (where did she learn to do that? Josh wonders, trying not to feel jealous); she links her fingers with his, sinking down slowly onto him. He chokes back a moan, hips jerking as she settles herself. 

“Mmm,” she hums, eyes half-shut, hair in a tangle around her shoulders. “That’s good.” She seems to know what she’s doing, so Josh lets her take charge, rolling her hips in a seamless rhythm that makes his breath come short. She leans down to kiss him and Josh takes the opportunity to run his hand through her glorious hair, down her neck to her chest; when she pauses for breath he draws circles around her left nipple with the point of his tongue, relishing the way it makes her shiver. 

He takes his time with her breasts, using just a hint of teeth, nipping at the soft skin underneath so she’ll have tiny marks tomorrow, then moving back up to kiss her neck, sucking at her pulse point. That makes her hips jerk and they both gasp as she takes him deeper. Josh thinks he curses but he can’t be sure because everything is too hot and too fast, and he feels like he can’t process it all but it’s so _good_. They’re too far gone for kissing now, just touching lips, her hands tight on his shoulders as she rides him. 

“Jen, ‘m gonna,” he tries to say, and she seems to know what he means because her cunt clenches around him and he can’t hold it together. He presses his mouth against her neck, nails digging into her waist, and comes so hard he sees shapes even with his eyes shut. 

“Yeah,” she whispers, slow and comforting, and Josh shudders. 

She hasn’t come yet, he realises a few minutes later, and while he’d love to fuck her again, there’s something he wants more. With renewed determination, he rolls her over so she’s on her back, spread out on his rumpled sheets, and pushes her thighs apart. 

Jen doesn’t say anything, but the hitch in her breath tells him everything he needs to know. “Did you think about this?” he asks, suddenly, not even sure where the words are coming from. “Did you think about my tongue on you before you came over?” 

“Obviously.” Her voice is husky, and her fingers slide through his hair as he settles himself between her legs and licks her once, slowly, tongue dragging against her clit. “You’ve got a clever tongue, after all.” Josh grins, then gets to work. He’s always enjoyed licking girls out, and Jen is no exception, delightfully responsive under his tongue. Her fingers clench almost painfully in his hair when he flickers his tongue into her, and she sighs as he licks at her clit. He pushes her legs apart a little further, thankful for her flexibility, and presses a finger into her cunt. Jen’s babbling now, words slurring together, but the overall feeling seems to be good, so he continues, fucking her slowly with first one, then two fingers. She’s wet, upper thighs slick, and he’s thinking about maybe adding a third finger when she starts clenching around him. 

“Jen?” he asks, looking up, and she freezes. He grins – he has her just about exactly where he wants her, where she’s so close that any movement could set her off. Her body’s probably singing with it, he thinks, kept on the edge. 

“Could you, maybe,” she says, breathlessly, and he obliges with leaning down and kissing her clit. 

She doesn’t scream, but she presses her face against the pillow and moans, legs wrapping around his neck, pressing him closer against her as she comes. Her clit throbs against his tongue, and he’s feeling quite pleased with himself, all-in-all, when she pushes him off. 

“Clever tongue, huh?” She looks more alive than he’s ever seen her, cheeks pink and eyes wide. “You couldn’t warn a girl, could you?” Josh laughs as she pushes ineffectually at his shoulder. “You’ve been holding out on me, Hutcherson,” she says grumpily, crossing her arms over her chest. That just serves to emphasise her breasts. 

“If I say I’ll use it more often will you forgive me?” he asks, moving back up the bed. His lips are still wet from her cunt and he feels rather triumphant. 

“Maybe,” Jen acquiesces, pulling him closer. 

/ 

Josh wakes up with a sore neck and a cool breeze on his ass. That’s unusual, he thinks, sitting up in bed and rubbing at his eyes. 

“Well, you don’t snore, at least,” Jen says, from the doorway. She’s wearing his sweatpants and her shirt – no bra, he notes – and eating a cupcake. Something catches Josh’s eye, at the corner of his vision. He looks at the cast on his right arm. 

The “I love cock” has been changed. It now says, “I love Jen”, in big, bold, black Sharpie. 

“You do,” Josh replies, still staring at it. It might actually be true, he thinks, feeling dazed. 

“Ha ha ha fuck you,” Jen sniffs, turning away and walking down the hall. 

“You already did,” Josh shouts after her, pulling the sheets back up around him. She doesn’t bother dignify that with a response.

“What d’you want for breakfast?” she shouts back instead, and he can hear the fridge open and close. 

Josh thinks for a second. “Come back here,” he says, eventually. There’s silence from the kitchen, and then footsteps. 

And she does.


End file.
